


Final Blow

by owlmoose



Series: Pieces of Thedas [32]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Archdemon - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Flash Fic, Mild Gore, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of Denerim ends in a tense moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Blow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Alistair/Sereda Aeducan, breathe again". Originally posted on Tumblr. Fits within the Fidelity canon.

Before he could stop her, Sereda snatched a two-handed sword from the hurlock corpse at Alistair’s feet, and ran toward the stumbling archdemon, holding it aloft and howling.

He had not meant for her to do this. He’d wanted to deal the death blow himself, just in case… in case… he reached out to grab her, but a restraining hand fell on his arm, and he twisted around to see Morrigan, of all people, looking up at him and shaking her head.

"It will be well," she murmured; he shook her off and looked up just in time to see Sereda lift the sword and draw a line with the tip across the beast’s neck. Covered in spittle and gore, she leapt onto its back, then shoved the blade into the base of its skull.

And then came an explosion of light, light so bright that Alistair had to throw up a hand to shield his face. He tried to peer through his fingers to see what was happening, but it was no use; he could see nothing through that dazzling brilliance. It was followed by a blast that knocked him off his feet, and he had to roll to avoid hitting his head, the roof trembling beneath him.

And just as suddenly, it was over. Alistair scrambled to his feet and over to Sereda, who lay next to what remained of the archdemon's head, both of them still as death. Her whole body was streaked with black and red, and somehow her helm had come off in the fall, and her left arm twisted at a frightening angle… He dropped to his knees next to her, his hands on her shoulders and peered into her bruised face, her closed eyes. Sereda, Sereda, Maker, please, oh please…

Then she gasped, turning her head to the side as coughs wracked her body, and Alistair drew breath for the first time in an age. “Sereda? Sereda!” He grabbed her in an embrace, gathering her close, and her arms came around his back. “You’re okay. You’re all right.”

"For various definitions of ‘all right’," she said weakly, and he hugged her tighter, eyes screwed shut as he pressed his face into her hair. "Oof, Alistair, I can’t breathe."

"Sorry, sorry." Alistair let her go and helped her sit up, brushing her sweat-soaked hair off her face. "I’m just so relieved."

"Me too," she murmured. "It’s over. We’re both alive, and it’s over." He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers, and closed his eyes, taking a moment to just breathe, to revel in their shared survival. Everything else would just have to wait.


End file.
